


nice and simple things

by spheeris1



Category: The Bletchley Circle
Genre: F/F, Love, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Millie POV // pre-series // drabble // Millie + Susan love stuff // "Susan pulls her in, steady as the dusk of evening tumbles down, and Millie fights this urge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	nice and simple things

/

It happens so slowly, breath held and eyes flitting from focused to the floor, but this touch is unmistakable – feather light at first but then more secure, less of a memory now and more of a reality – and Millie fights the urge to sink into this feeling.

Because these moves - much like following red and blue map lines and much like blacking out the windows every night and much like stepping down hard on all that this heart has longed for - are familiar; the cheek has not altered and so Susan’s fingertips know the way far too well, soft over the bone and firm over the flesh, pausing for effect at the corner of Millie’s silent mouth.

And wouldn’t it be nice to blame this on that bottle of rye whisky? To blame the bombs overhead, shaking the foundations of life itself? Wouldn’t it be simpler to say that this is just for now – seconds that might be the last, moments before the possible end of everything?

Millie has never known what to do with nice and simple things, though.

Dirt on the soles of her shoes, scuffs against the leather, tobacco stains scrubbed away, lips painted to stave off the signs of desperation – all that Millie knows is how to make do, how to make-believe that what is dim somehow shines, how to recognize something fascinating in her midst and drift towards it like a magnet.

Susan pulls her in, steady as the dusk of evening tumbles down, and Millie fights this urge.

To want, to need, to love.  
To have, to hold, to love.  
To feel, to see, to love.

But it happens so slowly, a press of lips that soon goes from closed to open, and there is no war to carry the weight of such acts and the world is no longer crumbling beneath their feet, and so Millie – with a weary sigh, with Susan in her arms, with the two of them sober and solid and true – finally gives in.

Millie gives in to love and hopes to live through the night.

/

**(end)**


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